


just one more night

by magnificentmatt



Series: nights spent alone [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Masturbation, Pining, Sibling Incest, pillow humping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 13:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnificentmatt/pseuds/magnificentmatt
Summary: Losing Matt, losing the way that he looks at her as if she's the light of his life, it would ruin her. Or, worse, he'd tell Mom or Dad and then she'd lose all three of them and probably be shipped off somewhere.The fear, though, doesn't stop her from spending nights like this the way that she wants to.





	just one more night

Katie isn't sure if Matt has noticed yet, about the pillow that she'd smuggled in from his room. If he has, she knows that he's too nice to say anything about it, and that he'll probably assume that she simply needed another one to sleep. 

The truth is that the pillow  _smells_ like him, like the cologne that he wears and the scent that's just  _Matt,_ warm but otherwise undetermined. She'd feel rather neutral about it if it weren't attached to him, to his clothes, to his bedroom. She loves it because it's a part of him.

She  _loves_ him, more than anything, but the fact of the matter is that she can never have him. He would look at her with  _disgust_ if he knew about the nights that she spent in her room, with her fingers and his name on her lips. He can never know, because then she'd lose the one good thing that she has. Losing Matt, losing the way that he looks at her as if she's the light of his life, it would ruin her. Or, worse, he'd tell Mom or Dad and then she'd lose all three of them and probably be shipped off somewhere.

The fear, though, doesn't stop her from spending nights like this the way that she wants to. She bends the pillow in half, squishing the sides of it with her thighs so that it stays sturdy. It's a bit embarrassing, knowing that she's far gone enough to want to rut away at something like this, but it feels more  _real_ than just using her fingers. The small, paranoid part of Katie's brain that always feels like she's being watched wonders what she'd even  _do_ if Matt somehow found out about the fact that she jerked off at all, forget about using his pillow to help her do it.

She closes her eyes with the first experimental thrust of her hips, feeling the pressure against the fabric of her sleep shorts. It results of what feels like little bolts of lightning in her core, intense but more  _good_ than anything else. She angles the pillow so that it hits her clit more directly and tries again.  _Oh, fuck._ She can almost pretend that it's not a pillow at all. She'd much rather have it be Matt's leg, would much rather sit in his lap with her hands tight around his shoulders for leverage and ride his thigh. His hands would slide over her back and her ass, would help her with what she wanted to do. He'd murmur sweet nothings into her ear and let her make a mess of his sweatpants when she inevitably got her juices all over them.

She can almost  _hear_ him in her mind, the way that he'd talk to her. "That's it, Pidge," he'd tell her, and she wouldn't mind the nickname in  _this_ context. "You look so pretty like this, and I haven't even fucked you."

Katie  _whimpers,_ because, oh, she wouldn't mind riding him for real, either. She'd let him lay back and she would take care of all of the hard work; he could see how  _good_ she was, how much she wanted him. He wouldn't have to do any of the heavy lifting, he'd just have to let her bounce up and down on his cock. The mere idea is intoxicating, of being able to watch him with lidded eyes, underneath her and sex-flushed. Preferably with his shirt off, since she  _knows_ how muscular he is from his Garrison training, she's seen it when he reaches up to a high shelf and his shirt rides up, seen it when he gets out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his hips and she needs to brush her teeth. She's never been fucked before, probably won't be for a long time since Matt's not an option, but she can't imagine that he could do anything to her that she wouldn't like.

There are so many things that she's never wanted to try, but she'd try them with Matt in a heartbeat. If he wanted to come into her room right now, bend her over onto the bed and fuck her as if they were both animals in heat, she'd let him. She'd  _so_ let him. He could slap her ass as he did it, loop his hands in her hair and use it to yank her head up. He could treat her so incredibly dirty, and she would be begging for it, as long as it came from him.

 _You're so desperate,_ she hears, and it's Matt's voice instead of her own. She's not sure if he would be the type of person to talk filthy, not sure what he's like in bed at  _all,_ but the words sound surprisingly fitting to his voice.  _You got so worked up that you had to rub your pretty pussy against a pillow, huh?_

Katie's mouth drops open as she grips her headboard  _hard_ and grinds into the pillow with the same intensity. It's electrifying, and she can feel herself getting closer and closer to the point where her thrusts get more erratic and half of the time, don't even hit her clit that well. She's too strung out to care, though, too caught up in the thoughts about Matt and his hands and his body. A series of half-constructed fantasies filter through her mind: first, there's his hands tight on her hips as he brings her down on his cock, and then the idea of her mouth being stuffed full of him, and finally, the image of him fucking her into the mattress, so hard and consuming that all she would be able to do is bite down on the sheets underneath her.

When she comes, her movements become so ragged that her orgasm nearly stops short, but she  _can't_ let that happen, so she opts for rotating her hips against the pillow in quick, short circles instead of humping it like she had just been doing. Her entire body shudders with the elation that follows, and she can't help the  _"Matt!"_ that leaves her lips, shrill and begging. She feels herself contract around nothing, feels the aftershocks roll over her.

After a few moments of straddling the pillow and panting, she eventually tugs it out from underneath her. There's a wet spot on it, big and blotchy, and there's probably a very similar one on her own shorts.  _It smells like me now, too,_ she thinks, and she's a little more satisfied with that than she probably should be.

Maybe now, with less tension in her bones and thoughts of Matt temporarily worked away, she'll finally be able to get some sleep.

.

.

.

(Matt presses the back of his head against his bedroom door, hand pressed firm over his crotch. He shouldn't be listening in. He really, really shouldn't.)


End file.
